Discombobulated and disconnected
or: Where the @#$%! am I?
So, I'm in the new digs but, largely gearless and too exhausted to think. Tonight's post facilitated by Justin Washburn, webmaster extraordinaire.
I'm going to bed
or, Life is what happens while you're busy making other plans.
According to family legend, I was born with crayon in hand. Dad says he knew I was doomed to the life of an artist (my Mother's greatest fear but, that's another story) before I cleared diapers. Once I discovered I could leave a mark there was no surface in the house that was safe; not the floor, not my brother, not Mother's good linens.
